


How Hot?

by 401



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Body Image, Bruises, Bubble Bath, Comfort, Fluff, Hot, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scars, Stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5083120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/401/pseuds/401
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky likes bubble baths</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Hot?

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that this is terrible

_‘How hot do you like your baths?’_

_‘Too hot’_

Bucky gritted his teeth and hissed out a long exhalation as he lowered his body into the steaming bathtub, steadying and timing his descent with tense knuckles on the porcelain rim. He loosened his grip slightly when he heard the creak of protest under his left fist as the polished metal dug into the bathtub.

 _“There is not one think in this apartment that doesn’t have finger marks all over it,”_ Steve would joke.

The reality of it made Bucky cringe, the fact that he was unintentionally destructive every minute of the day, no matter how hard he tried. He was used to a world full of functional resilience, concrete and steel, all things that would not break or scratch under his touch, a world where how things looked was of little importance. Things did jobs. Period.

This is why he had his baths so hot. So hot that for a few minutes after he got out of the water his metal arm would have an aura of steam radiating off of its glossy plates like fog on still water, so hot that his skin would blush red and irritated. It was distracting. His skin would prickle and ache enough that he would not pay mind to the sprinkling of shrapnel scars that littered his chest or let his eyes obsessively rake over the various dents, scratches, bullet pocks and grazed that covered most parts of him. The heat crawled under his skin and leeched out his imperfections, and for roughly forty-five minutes the icy cold of those cryofreeze tanks was forgotten and discarded.

Bucky let his head lull backwards, clenching his eyes shut and feeling his breathing speed up as he let his ears dip under the water line. The pulsing monotony of water moving around his ears drowned out the little sounds in the small apartment. They didn’t bother him, just put him on edge more than he needed to be. His body was tuned to picking up small sounds, signs of life in places that seemed empty. It was a reflex that kept you alive on a mission but one that would slowly do your head in if you lived in a small, cosy apartment with another super-soldier who had a habit of dropping things, humming and closing doors much louder that he means to.

“Buck?” Steve called from somewhere in the apartment.

Bucky sat up rapidly, the bathwater sloshing around his shoulders noisily. He must have nodded off momentarily because the noise shocked him more than usual.

“Yeah,” Bucky gulped, “It’s open.”

Steve came into the steamy bathroom and frowned.

“You tryna make soup or something?” He chuckled, gesturing to the hot water.

Bucky breathed a laugh, closing his eyes and listening to Steve potter around the room and sit on the edge of the bathtub.

“Look pretty like that,” Steve muttered, pushing locks of wet hair out of Bucky’s face, “You’re all…rosy.”

Bucky caught Steve’s hand in his and pressed it to his lips gently.

It was cold in comparison to his skin, the sensation of dry against wet was a jarring one, but not unpleasant.

“You always look pretty,” Bucky sighed, his voice muffled my Steve’s fingers “Too damn pretty.”

Steve rolled his eyes and replaced his fingers with his lips, pressing them against Bucky’s in a wet, soapy-tasting kiss. He pushed his fingers back through Bucky’s hair, linking them behind his head in the hot water and intensifying the kiss, sliding his tongue alongside the soldiers in a flush, warm movement.

“How pretty?” Steve whispered, breaking from the kiss only momentarily before pressing back. Bucky only moaned in reply, raking his wet metal fingers down Steve’s back and leaving dark grey finger tracks on the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

Somehow, he felt even warmer. The heat in the base of his stomach surpassed the heat of the bathwater and his hands tightened on Steve’s shoulders, pulling him closer with a sharp tug. Steve snorted a messy laugh against Bucky’s mouth as the brunette dragged him forward making him land in the water with his knees either side of Bucky’s hips. Steve winced as he felt the heat and moisture soak through layers of clothing and reach his skin.

“Baths only feel nice if you’re actually naked,” Steve huffed, against Bucky’s forehead, “This just feels like I’ve peed on myself.” Bucky barked a laugh, a sound the Steve didn’t get to hear often.

“Get naked then,” Bucky smiled cheekily, kissing the tip of Steve’s nose, “I hear no protest, Rogers.”


End file.
